Are We There Yet?


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The day after our win felt like a Yankees off day, so I
wasn’t going crazy yet. I know that baseball season is over, but it was like my
conscious and subconscious were fighting. Subconsciously I knew that the season
was over, and that we’d be without baseball for months, but my conscious was
refusing to accept it. I kept checking for game previews. I was in
denial. It was pretty sad.


Yesterday was the parade, so the excitement that came with
it lessened my Baseball Withdrawal Syndrome. Yes, I watched the parade all the
way from Dubai. The parade was due to start at around 8p.m. here, so at 6p.m. I
began to get antsy. I was out with my friends at a Hookah Lounge, with my
laptop tucked away safely in my purse. Smoking my rose-flavored hookah, I was
sitting there thinking about the parade and ignoring the conversation going


I don’t even know what they were talking about, I think they
were planning a trip out to the desert. I think they put me in charge of
bringing something for the trip. Who knows? My friends know that when I slip
into my baseball trance, I’m in a whole other world, so someone will probably
call me today and tell me what they want me to do.


So, I was sitting there, thinking about the parade, smoking
my hookah. How many people will show up?
What will the speeches in front of City Hall be like? What will Mayor Bloomberg
say? What will Derek Jeter say? Will Matsui give a speech? Will Kanye West jump
up on stage and interrupt someone?
These were all the questions going
through my head as I was counting down to the parade.


At around 7p.m. I couldn’t take it anymore. I took my laptop
out, set it on the table, and went to
to watch the live coverage. My friends know that bringing my laptop with me
when I go out only means one thing: baseball.


“I thought the baseball season was over?” my friend Elie
asked. I explained to him that I was awaiting the parade. My friends shook
their heads (they aren’t my American group of friends, they’re Lebanese
ex-pats) and told me that my obsession wasn’t healthy. Pfffttt, what do they


The celebrations eventually began, and I started getting
choked up watching them. People in the lounge started coming up to me and
asking me what I was watching on my laptop, and I explained. A little while
later, I heard someone from another table ask “Is that the World Series


I turned around to see who asked, and I saw a man, roughly
in his 30s, wearing a navy blue hat with the most beautiful insignia known to
man. “It sure is!” I responded, and gestured for him to come over to watch it
with me. It might have been the margaritas I had, or it might have been the
beautiful hat on his head, but the guy was cute. He was also a fellow Yankee.
He was definitely welcome.


Mark (the guy from the other table) and I watched the
parade, and started talking about the previous 4 parades we had seen. He’s also
a New Yorker, from Queens, and is a diehard Yankees fan. As we watched our
players, past and present, along with their families make their way up the
Canyon of Heroes, we started talking baseball. We talked about growing up going
to games at the old stadium, the glory of the 90s, and the magic of this season
as we watched the celebrations in our hometown. We stopped talking to watch
Jay-Z perform, and listen to the speeches. We then continued discussing the
state of the Yankees, and how sad it is to think that this may be the last time
we see this entire group together.


Halfway through our discussion about whether or not Johnny
Damon would be in pinstripes next year, I looked up and saw that my friends had
left.  I looked at the time: it was
2a.m. My laptop charger had slipped out of place and the battery had died. Mark
and I were the only two people left in the lounge. We exchanged numbers. We are
both in desperate need of Yankee Comradery being so far away from home.


Mark drove me home after we left the lounge, and we agreed
that we should “do this again some time”. Ah, the New York Yankees: bringing
people together.


I managed to sleep for a few hours and dream about baseball.
My sleep schedule is still messed up from the season, so my body won’t let me
sleep for longer than a few hours at a time. My goal this offseason is to get
back to normal sleeping habits. I’ll keep you posted on that, but I have a
feeling I’ll fail miserably.


As I woke up this morning and had my first cup of coffee, it
hit me that the baseball season is over. The revelation left me feeling a
little depressed, but the amazing celebrations I witnessed yesterday managed to
put a smile on my face and help me overcome my feeling of sadness.


I could barely get through off days during the season, I
don’t know how I’m going to survive this offseason. Being the World Series Champions will definitely help me get through the next few months, but I’m ready for spring
training to begin. I’m not as excited about the Winter Meetings this year as I was last year. I just can’t wait for baseball
to start again.


Right now, I feel like I’m 5 years old, sitting in the
backseat of my dad’s car on the way to Six Flags. Are we there yet?



  1. levelboss

    ‘Mark drove me home after we left the lounge, and we agreed that we should “do this again some time”.’

    wow, you got a date out of this? with a fellow New Yorker too? interesting.. post updates on how your date goes, Hiba

  2. ibleedpinstripes

    Like I already told you on Twitter, you are an amazing writer! That’s some story too… You realize it really is a small world when something like that happens.
    This off-season just seems like it’s gonna take forever to get through. Hopefully I’m wrong. It’s so sad to think this exact group of guys probably won’t be the same once 2010 rolls around. I don’t wanna think about that at all! *Sigh* Hopefully these 96, well, now 95 days until pitchers & catchers just fly by. Great stuff, Beebz!

    – Lisa

  3. Beeeebzy

    Thank you Lisa, the words come flowing out, straight from the heart!
    I definitely can’t wait for baseball to start again.

  4. landarzt

    Oi, Hibs – great post! Most of my friends in Paris are non-American, and find my Yankee obsession mystifying as well. I find myself having to explain to an English friend over and over that only individual players are relegated or promoted in the minor league system, not entire teams as in football/soccer.
    I help out at Shakespeare & Co., the anglophone bookshop in the Latin Quarter, in the evenings, and whenever the Yanks were playing a day game, I would persuade the predominantly British staff to put John Sterling on the radio – to say that they were bemused would be an understatement. By the end of the World Series, though, they were asking me ‘How are your Yankees doing?’ every time I came in. Now begins the campaign to get them to create a ‘Yankee History’ section in the shop… cheers, Chris

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